One of the Girls
by Cold War Takeover
Summary: Arthuretta Kirkland has always been a little bit of a rebel. And Francis Bonnefoy has always been the clear image of what she loathed. AU, fem!EnglandXFrancis, genderflipping, minor teenage angst, human names used.
1. Chapter 1

**Oh my. I have never really actually cared for this pairing. In fact, I used to hate it. (For preference of Alfred, of course.)**

**And now, after falling in love with AmeRuss, I can't help but think "Even Arthur needs someone…"**

**Got the idea for this after reading "Catch Me I'm Falling, Faster Than Anyone Should" *dies of happiness* Best story EVER! (This story will be nothing at all like CMIFFTAS, of course. But the joy and elation I had from reading it helped create this lovely little thing~)**

**Sum.: Arthuretta Kirkland has always been a little bit of a rebel. And Francis Bonnefoy has always been the clear image of what she loathed. But after a rumor goes around that Francis is more bad than he appears, Arthuretta's eyes are opened to the fact that maybe, just maybe, Francis might not be such a goody-two-shoes after all.**

**Genre: Romance (of course)**

**Warnings: Hmm. It's rated T, and my idea of T is a little off-set from what everyone else would normally judge. So there's warning numbero uno. Another one would be, haha, I rather like keeping Romano's potty mouth and Francis' French nature. Warning two. And, of course, I'd like to let all of you know that I tend to gender-flip characters in my writing. (But you all have seen that England is flipped, because of the summary. LOL) Also, as a completely-non-warning, Arthuretta is in fact an actual name. So, don't think I've gone cheesy and lazy and simply added "-etta" to the name. XD**

**Read and review, my lovelies~ And enjoy!**

**[-]**

**Chapter 1**

**[-]**

I glared at the bowl placed in front of me. After taking a hesitant bite of the oatmeal, I turned to Aunt Victorious.

"It'd taste better if I had cooked it."

My cousin, Alfred, laughed loudly, the sound obnoxious to my ears. "How could you be so cruel, Arty?"

I ground my teeth at the nickname. "My name is not Arty, you git! And my cooking is just fine, thank you!"

He rolled his eyes and continued stuffing his face.

Aunt Tori and my other cousin, Matthew, share a look of exasperation. They had long since noticed how Alfred's and my personalities clashed violently.

"Oh, it's time to get to school, kiddies!" Aunt Tori declared after sneaking a look at Al's watch.

Al huffed but took the very last bite of his food. Matthew quickly took both his and Al's empty bowls and placed them in the sink.

Matthew and Aunt Tori both hid their worried looks as they noticed my yet again full bowl.

I sneered at them when they turned away, and quickly pulled on my ratty gray flannel.

Aunt Tori placed kisses on top of her sons' heads, Matthew smiling lovingly at his mother and Al rubbing at the spot, as if he still believed in cooties.

Aunt Tori moved to kiss me as well, but I ducked out of her embrace and stepped out the door. "C'mon, you bloody gits, we're gonna be late!"

Aunt Tori sighed sadly but waved as Matthew started the car.

I rolled my eyes and didn't pretend to have not seen her.

[-]

I quickly stuffed my bookbag in my locker. The only reason I even let the house with the damned thing was because Aunt Tori would scold me if she realized I didn't even care about my grades.

And that would be time well wasted, because the words would fall on deaf ears. When will she realize that, when I have my headphones on over my ears and my iPod is on, I am most certainly _not _listening?

I slammed the locker shut, earning a glare from the students around me, and ducked into the girl's bathroom, sitting absentmindedly in an empty corner.

I didn't miss the looks those preppy girls gave me as they sprayed obnoxious hairspray fumes in their hair and lined their eyes with eyeliner. I didn't move as they hurriedly left when first bell rang. And I didn't reveal the hurt I held in my heart.

It was only when the caring voice spoke that I realized I wasn't alone in the bathroom.

"Are you okay?" I looked up and was met with gold-brown eyes, worry written all over the girl's face. She wasn't as bad as the other girls when it came to make-up—she only wore a thin layer of lip gloss on her lips. She was what you would call a natural beauty. Her lips were a nice, soft shade of pink, her cheeks already had a faint red tint, her eyelashes were long and plentiful, and her skin was absolutely flawless.

Her hair was silky red-brown, and she wore it in a simple ponytail, her hair naturally curling.

Oh, lord, I couldn't help but wonder how many boys took advantage of her beauty and her obviously kind nature.

"Why do you care?" I retorted harshly, immediately regretting it. I mean, this is the first time a girl has said something nice to me since, I dunno, about three months ago, when I started coming to this school?

Her lip trembled, but she didn't dare cry. "I-I just noticed th-that you were crying, and—"

"Crying?" I shrieked, my hands reaching up to my eyes. Sure enough, warm clear wetness met my fingertips.

I furiously swiped at my eyes with my flannel sleeve, blushing bright red. "I am _not _crying. My eyes just hurt from seeing all those girls putting on mascara and stuff, and—"

She smiled sweetly at me. "It's okay to admit it! I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're embarrassed about, ve~"

I shook my head. "I wasn't crying. I don't _cry_." At least, not in public.

She sighed, a sad smile gracing her lips. "Okay. You better get to class, though, Arthuretta." She stood to leave, her back already turned to me, when I reached out and grabbed her sleeve.

"You know my name?"

She smiled cluelessly at me. "Why wouldn't I?"

I shrugged. "Because no one blimey likes me?"

She giggled. "Well, if it makes you feel better, I like you! My name's Feliciana Vargas!" Second bell rang, telling her that we had only five minutes to get to class. Her eyes widened.

"Bye, Arthuretta! I'll talk to you at lunch, okay?" she shouted over her shoulder as she ran out of the bathroom.

I blinked. Did I just make a friend?

[-]

I didn't dare stand around waiting at lunch. I'm not a fool. If Feliciana was really going to eat lunch with me, then she would just have to find me.

I took my lunch, just for the sake of taking it, and sat down in a quiet corner of the courtyard. Just as I slid the headphones over my ears and began digging around in my iPod library for a good song, I heard a chirpy, "There you are, ve~!" and saw, out of the corner of my eye, someone sit beside me.

I pulled my headphones off, letting them hang around my neck, and looked at her in shock. "You actually bloody meant it," I stated.

She giggled. "Why would I tell someone I'd eat lunch with them and not mean it?"

_Well, considering it's me you told it to, you could've done it to hurt me._

I didn't dare say this aloud, though, because it felt like if I told her that her dream world would shatter.

I simply shrugged.

"Feliciana!" a loud voice yelled loudly. She yelped and jumped a foot off the ground, clutching tightly onto my arm.

I blinked in shock at her as she apologized profusely for grabbing my arm. "I'm sorry, ve, I did it on instinct and _please don't hurt me!_"

I held back from laughing at her. I probably would've snickered, though, if it wasn't for the towering figure that stood in front of us.

He was made completely of muscle; the type of person you'd assume is a complete bully to everyone. However, he seemed exactly the opposite. He had worry written all over his face as he took in the image that was frightened Feliciana, and his stony blue eyes looked like they held all the love in the world.

"Feliciana, why did you run off?"

Feliciana smiled up at the brawny boy (who I was guessing was a senior.) "I remembered that I told Arthuretta I'd eat lunch with her, ve~!"

And with that, those blue eyes that looked so pretty a second ago turned to me.

I smiled slightly at him, not daring show the fear that was racing through me. "Hello. I don't think we've met before. I'm Arthuretta Kirkland." I politely held out my hand. (Just because I don't show it often, I have not grown out of my British upbringing.)

He eyed me warily. "Ludwig Beilschmidt," was all he said as he turned his attention back to Feliciana. "Since when are you friends with her?"

Feliciana glanced at me, as if searching for approval. I quickly realized that she wanted to know if she could tell Ludwig about the earlier incident. I nodded slightly.

"Well, she was in the bathroom earlier and I saw that she was crying, so I comforted her and told her I'd talk to her at lunch, ve~!"

Ludwig nodded, as if the story made sense, and sat down next to Feliciana.

As soon as Feliciana started talking, I knew not to interrupt her. And somehow, I had the feeling Ludwig knew this too.

Finally, after three entire plastic containers full of pasta later, Feliciana looked at me in confusion. "Why haven't you eaten your lunch, ve~?"

I glanced down at the forgotten paper sack. I shrugged. "I don't really feel like eating…"

"Did you have a big breakfast?"

I blushed slightly. "I didn't exactly eat that either…"

Immediately she felt at my stomach. "You're really skinny, ve~ You should eat more!"

I blushed even worse as I pushed her hands away. "I'm fine, really. It's just part of my daily routine. I skip breakfast and lunch and just eat a light dinner and that's that."

Okay, so maybe a small container of McDonald's French fries don't count as a light dinner. But my stomach wasn't complaining.

"Maybe that's why you're so crabby," she mused, staring up at the sky.

I burned bright red. "I'm not bloody crabby, you git!"

She pouted. "But you are, ve~"

I pouted and crossed my arms over my chest, looking anywhere but at her.

"Oh, hello, big brother Francis!"

And I felt like ditching school right then and there. I angrily looked up as two pairs of shiny black dress shoes stepped in front of me.

Expensive looking faded black jeans, silky red button-up with the top five buttons undone, scruffy blonde beard, wavy blonde hair pulled into a ponytail with a shiny blue ribbon, and glistening sapphire eyes.

I glared angrily at Francis Bonnefoy.

_And to think, I avoided him so well so far that I had thought he wasn't even at school!_

Francis smirked down at me. "'ello _ma cheri _Feliciana," he said sweetly to the girl, his eyes never leaving mine.

Feliciana smiled in delight. "I see you already know big brother Francis, Arthuretta~!"

I looked at Feliciana warily. "Is he really your big brother?" _Because if he is, I might just have to call off this friendship._

Feliciana frowned slightly. "No, but he's just like one!"

I held back from sighing in relief, and returned to scowling at Francis. Who seemed to have disappeared.

He blew on my neck and wrapped his arms around my stomach. I simultaneously shivered and attempted to get out of his grip. "Gah! Let go of me, you bloody frog!"

He chuckled smugly. "I agree with Feliciana, you are _tres _crabby and skinny. I 'ad not realized that you didn't eat much. Per'aps if you would let me take you to dinner—"

"LIK HELL I'LL LET YOU!" I shrieked, just barely prying his fingers off of me.

He smirked as he stepped away, turning his attention instead to the two girls who were just now stepping into the courtyard. "Yo, Francis, you should've told us that you were coming here!" one of them called. She had white hair, cropped short, and, from what I could tell, it wasn't fake. She had deep blood red eyes, rimmed with black eyeliner and thick mascara. A smirk tugged at her lips as she saw who was in here.

"Well if it isn't Bruder and little Feli!" she cackled loudly. Feliciana smiled sweetly at the girl, while Ludwig burned bright red and face-palmed.

"What are you doing here, Gillian?" Ludwig mumbled in disappointment.

A smirk tugged at her lips. "The awesome me and Antonia are here to talk to Francis."

And that was when I looked at the other girl. She had long chocolate brown hair, worn down, the tips brushing at the back hem of her shirt. Her emerald green eyes seemed to dance with laughter, even though she was watching on with a neutral expression.

I glared at all three of them. To the normal stranger, the two girls would appear to be just two more of Francis' fangirls. However, if you really knew who they were, you would immediately revoke that opinion. These three were practically inseparable, which is normal considering the fact that the three of them have been friends since forever. And the only way a stranger could know that the two weren't obsessed with Francis without having to be told? Antonia and Gillian rarely came off as the girly types. Antonia was always wearing loose (stylish looking) clothes, but her beauty was completely natural. Gillian dresses like an absolute tomboy, always jeans, t-shirts, and her combat boots (which you rarely see her without.) Gillian wasn't immediately beautiful to the eye, but if you looked at her long enough you'd see she's discreetly gorgeous.

Gillian glared back at me. "Hello, Arthuretta. I see you're just as scruffy as always."

I snorted. "You're one to talk, Gillian."

She narrowed her eyes at me but said no more, instead switching into teasing nature as she turned her attention to Feliciana.

I don't quite remember when Gillian and I started disliking each other, but it feels absolutely normal to me.

Francis smirked at me. "And 'ow did you become friends with _ma petit _Feliciana?"

I shrugged, not exactly wanting to tell him.

Feliciana, however, spoke up immediately. "She was crying earlier in the girls' bathroom, before the second bell, so I comforted her, ve~!"

Everyone's eyes were on me. I scowled at everyone in general. "I wasn't bloody crying! I saw all of the girls putting on their make-up, and watching them put mascara and eyeliner near their eyes made my eyes hurt," I said gruffly, crossing my arms and glaring at a wall.

Gillian snickered into her hand, Antonia looked confused, and Francis smiled sweetly at me. "Aw, _ma cheri_, you can trust _moi _with the truth!"

I gagged. "Like I would bloody do that."

"So you're admitting that wasn't the truth, _oui_?"

I glared at him sharply. "If I wanted you to know the truth, I would've told you the blimey truth!"

He chuckled sadly. "Of course you would, Arthuretta."

**[-]**

**Awwwww. :( Poor Arthuretta. Being picked on by the other girls! I know how it feels. *pats her back***

**Arthuretta: *glares* I don't need any bloody comfort, thanks.**

**Francis: Ah, but **_**ma cheri**_**, don't you realize zat you do? You obviously need some if you were crying!**

**Arthuretta: *slaps him upside the head* SHUT UP, YOU BLOODY WANKER! Nobody asked you.**

**So, hope you all enjoyed! ^^ Review, please!**

**(I'd work on the next chapter right now if I could, but I don't have enough time to. So, I'll work on it tomorrow! G'night, you guys!)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Just finished mowing the lawn *cries* My hands are **_**nummmmbbbb!**_

**Sum.: Arthuretta Kirkland has always been a little bit of a rebel. And Francis Bonnefoy has always been the clear image of what she loathed. But after a rumor goes around that Francis is more bad than he appears, Arthuretta's eyes are opened to the fact that maybe, just maybe, Francis might not be such a goody-two-shoes after all.**

**Genre: Romance**

**Warnings: Rated T, Romano's potty mouth, Francis' French-ness-ism, and some gen!flipping**

**R&R, my darlings~ Enjoy!**

**[-]**

**Chapter 2**

**[-]**

I know that Francis pays much more attention to me than he does most other girls. Usually, he just sticks around until he seduces them into going on a date with him (although I have never given him that, of course), and gives up after a day if denied.

And he has been showering me with fondness since I first came to this school. (Read: three months)

The only reason I keep pushing him away is because I _know _I don't deserve his affection. I know I'm not particularly pretty, nor am I brimming with cheer, nor do I care too much about others and their well-being.

And this also explains why I am utterly confused that he still sticks around.

After bothering me for the rest of the day (he was in all of my classes after lunch), he finally left when the bell rang to walk home with Gillian and Antonia.

Feliciana met me at my locker (how she found out it was mine, I have no idea) and chattered on about her day. When I had finished dragging the bag out, I shut my locker and turned to her expectantly.

I don't know what I was waiting for, but I felt like _she _knew.

"Oh! Here's my phone number, ve~ Call me if you ever want to talk!" she said cheerfully, taking out a pen and, lacking paper, scrawling it on my arm when I held it out to her.

I nodded and was about to leave when she threw her arms around me. "Bye, Arthuretta! I'm so glad I'm your friend, ve~!" she chirped, then let go and ran off.

I blinked in shock, then shook my head and started in the direction of where Matthew parked the car.

[-]

When Alfred saw my arm (I had forgotten to roll my flannel sleeve back down), he snickered. "Oh, does Arty have a girlfriend?" he teased, assuming that the flowing script was female (which it was, of course.)

I blushed and glared at him. "She's not my bloody girlfriend, you git! She's just my friend and she gave me her number without me asking her to!"

Somehow, I feel like I made the problem worse. He sniggered but stopped when Matthew spoke up. "Who is it, eh? You haven't made any friends, and we've noticed." 'We' being Matthew and Aunt Tori.

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. "None of your bloody business."

Matthew silently sighed in exasperation but kept focused on the road.

Finally, after a few moments of peaceful silence, Alfred spoke up. "Is it that Vargas girl? You two were hanging out at lunch together, right?"

I burned bright red. "How'd you know about that? You always eat lunch at McDonald's."

He grinned cluelessly at me. "All the girls were talking about it!"

I bit back from screaming in rage. Of course the female-bloody-populace of my school was talking about me. God damnit. Half of me wanted to burst into tears, but I didn't dare cry in front of my cousins. Alfred already teased me without rest, and Matthew would just worry over me and tell his mother and then both of them would appear in my room, bearing comfort food and soothing words.

Like I don't get enough of that already.

As soon as the car was parked in the driveway, I darted out of the car and ran into the house.

"Arthuretta…!" Aunt Tori shrieked as I bolted past her at the stairs.

"Homework," was all I said as I slammed my bedroom door shut.

Naturally, that wasn't the truth. I threw my bag onto the ground by my desk and slid my headphones, hitting the play button as I curled up under my comforter on my bed.

I pressed a pillow against my face and screamed as loud as I could, the noise silenced by the fabric. Only when my nose felt clogged up a few moments later did I realize that I was crying.

I cried silently into the pillow, not daring to shriek and kick my legs in the temper tantrum I so desperately wanted to throw.

Damn those girls, always picking on me and looking at me like I'm scum and spreading rumors that I'm on drugs and all that crap.

Urg. I hate the female population of America. The women in London were much, much more civilized. They only talked about you when they were sure you wouldn't hear about it.

Except Feliciana. I don't hate her. She's better than the rest of the girls at this school, and for that, I'm thankful. She had the same heart as Matthew, but she knew not to bug me too much about my fits.

Just as a song stopped playing, I heard someone coming up the stairs. Since only Aunt Tori had a room up here, as well as the second bathroom and the house's only linen closet, and that the footfalls were too heavy to be her's, I knew that one of my cousin's were here to talk to me.

I quickly wiped my face and flipped my pillow over, tears officially hidden.

A loud knock sounded at my door, and I immediately knew it was Alfred.

"Whaddya want, Al?" I yelled.

Instead of answering, he came into the room, a guilty look on my face. "Um, Mattie told me to apologize for what I said earlier. About the Vargas girl being your girlfriend and all that."

I rolled my eyes and sneered at him. "I could care less about that, Al. You _always _say stupid things like that, so I wasn't hurt or anything."

His eyes brightened up. "Does that mean I'm forgiven?"

"Sure."

He whooped and was just about to leave when he stared closer at my face. "Are you crying?"

I wiped at my cheeks, double-checking. Nope, no tears. "No, of course not, you git!"

"Were you crying before I came in?"

"No!" I said it with too much effort, and answered a split-second too early.

He peered closely at me. "What's wrong, Arthuretta?"

That was the third time out of my entire life he had used my full name. He meant business. "Nothing! I wasn't crying! Get out of my room before I bloody yell for Aunt Tori!" I shouted, throwing a pillow at his head.

Alfred yelped and ran out of the room, forgetting to shut the door.

I simply glared at it, too lazy to get up and shut it myself.

I heard voices downstairs, and knew damn Al was telling them I had been crying. I could tell by the worried tones that floated up to my room.

Finally, two sets of footsteps came up, the heavy but quiet thuds that identified Matthew and light footfalls that belonged to Aunt Tori.

As soon as Matthew opened his mouth to speak, I threw another pillow at his head. "GET OUT OF HERE, MATTHEW!" I shrieked.

His eyes widened but he silently obeyed, scurrying back down the stairs.

I pulled the comforter over my head and mumbled, "Go away, Aunt Tori."

She sighed and, instead of listening to me, moved closer, sitting down on the bed next to me. She gently tugged the blanket off of me, revealing me looking even worse for wear; my hair was frizzy and tangled from the blanket, and my eyes were swollen as tears rolled down my face again.

"What's wrong, Arthuretta?" she asked, care in her voice. She didn't look like she expected an answer.

I rubbed at one of my eyes and motioned to the door. "Can you go shut that?"

"You're crying because the door is open?" she asked in silent shock.

I shook my head. "I don't want the boys to hear me." She nodded, realizing that if she obeyed me, I might actually tell her the truth. She padded in that quiet manner of her's and shut the door, shutting it with a quiet _click _and moving back to sit next to me.

She hesitated, then wrapped her arms around me and pulled me to her chest. I noticed that she flinched slightly, waiting for me to push her away. A moment later, though, she relaxed.

"Now, tell me what's wrong."

I sniffled, trying to clear my nose so I wouldn't sound all whiney and sobby. "Al told me in the car that a lot of girls are talking about me."

She made a noise of comfort. "Girls at your age can be cruel. But you know not to listen to them, now don't you?"

I shook my head. "I know, I know. But their words _hurt_. They are always glaring at me in class, and whispering to themselves while staring at me with those bloody stupid smiles on their faces, always giggling and looking at me like I'm trash."

She nodded and began rubbing circles on my back. "Girls do that when they find something different. Honestly, they're most likely acting like they're saying bad things but discussing things like how they want you're irresistible British accent or something."

She smiled lightly, hoping I would laugh at the joke. Her lips faltered when I glared at the wall behind her.

She sighed in defeat. "I know you probably don't want to hear it, but I can kind of understand why they talk so much about you. I mean, you're clothing isn't exactly all pleasing to the eye."

My glare intensified as the words settled in. So now she was agreeing with those bloody girls.

I grit my teeth, not letting her words ruin the close moment. "I don't _have _anything girly, and you know this."

She shook her head. "I wouldn't know. You do your own laundry, and you rarely let anyone in your room."

I sighed in surrender and leaned my forehead against her shoulder, wiping away my tears with one hand. "Do you have any advice?"

She pursed her lips and stared blankly at the wall behind me. "Well, do you want a boyfriend?"

I blushed, thankful she couldn't see my face. My head instantly thought of how happy Ludwig and Feliciana were together. "I-I guess." I didn't dare think of any names of boys, not trusting my mouth to not reveal them.

"Then I suggest you try out dressing like a girl."

I pouted, knowing she would say something like that. "I don't know _how_."

More like I don't know _what_. I knew how to properly wear a skirt or do my hair—the private school in London, complete with uniforms, was enough lesson. And watching the girls put on their make-up taught me well enough how to apply make-up, their movements memorized by heart.

Aunt Tori pressed her lips into a thin line. "And I'm much too old to know what's in style," she said with a cheerful tone. I pulled back and looked at her face. She didn't look all too old, and I knew that she had the boys when she was, what, fourteen I believe? She could only be about twenty-nine, give or take a few years since I wasn't sure on when she had Al and Matthew.

She smiled slightly at me. "I suggest you make friends with a more kind-hearted girl and ask her for help—"

"I already have one," I stated harshly.

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you have her phone number?" she asked questioningly.

I pulled my flannel sleeve back and showed her my arm.

Her eyes lit up, although she kept her neutral expression. "Then all I can say is call her and ask her to bring you shopping. Unless, of course, she's not at all in the in-crowd—" she cut off as she saw the sharp look I gave her.

She nodded in apology. "Call her up!" She pulled me into a tight hug, then moved to leave my room.

"Aunt Tori?"

She turned her head, looking back at me with one eye. "Hm?"

"Breath a word of this to the boys and I swear I'll run away."

She grinned at me. "Of course, darling." And with that, she left.

I sighed and flopped back onto the bed, letting her words mull around in my head. Well, I could most certainly see why they would look so down upon me. But I didn't honestly _care _that I looked unkempt. I didn't mind that my appearance wasn't top-notch. What I minded was that the girls treated me poorly because of it.

I sighed and pulled my cell phone out of my pocket.

_Might as well give it a shot…_

[-]

**Oh lord. Hahahaha. First chapter without Francis!**

**The next chapter was originally part of this one as well, so next chapter's already written! (But the grand total of the two were, like, four thousand words. So I immediately edited it LOLZ)**

**So, hope you all enjoyed, **_**mon cheris**_**~! Review~!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hahaha you already know this, but this chapter was part of the last chapter! XD**

**Sum.: Arthuretta Kirkland has always been a little bit of a rebel. And Francis Bonnefoy has always been the clear image of what she loathed. But after a rumor goes around that Francis is more bad than he appears, Arthuretta's eyes are opened to the fact that maybe, just maybe, Francis might not be such a goody-two-shoes after all.**

**Genre: Romance**

**Warnings: Rated T, Arthur's moodiness, mentions of female undergarments, and some gen!flipping~**

**Read, **_**meine lieblings**_**! Enjoy~**

**[-]**

**Chapter 3**

**[-]**

I hadn't ever actually thought that the girl could be so strong.

After appearing at the front door, looking absolutely ecstatic, Feliciana had insisted on coming inside. I couldn't turn her down, of course, because she was only asking for a cup of water since her brother made her walk over here. Which was only five streets over, but oh well, that innocent look of her's looked to frail.

Alfred grinned at her as she came inside. "Hello, Feli!"

I blinked in shock as I pulled on a black hoodie.

Feliciana looked pleasantly surprised. "Alfred! I didn't realize you lived with Arthuretta, ve~!"

Alfred smirked at me as he slung an arm around her shoulder. "Technically, she lives with _me_."

I rolled my eyes and stuck my tongue out at him. He held back from laughing as Feliciana gaped at me. "You're tongue is pierced?"

I blushed and nodded, pulling the hood over my head. "Just go get your water bottle and we'll take my aunt's car."

She paused. "Where's your kitchen, ve~?"

I face-palmed. "My aunt's in there." I pointed in the direction of the dining room. "Just ask her for help."

Feliciana nodded and left the room, and Alfred turned to me with that stupid grin on his face.

I glared at him. "Why didn't you tell me she was your bloody friend?"

"To annoy you, Arty!"

I bared my teeth at him and growled, just as Feliciana entered the room again with a water bottle in hand, already half-drunken. "Ve~ Let's go!" She also handed me the keys to Aunt Tori's car, and I realized she probably told her where we were going.

Oh lord. When I got home, she would be waiting to see what I got.

So, after driving around and following her sketchy directions, we ended up at the mall. As soon as I had the car doors locked, she grabbed my arm and literally _dragged _me around the mall.

_With_ me struggling, she toted me around as if I was a rag doll.

I realized she was probably so strong at this kind of thing because she was used to dragging Ludwig around.

She let go of me and smiled cheerfully at me as we stopped in front of a store.

I looked up at the sign and immediately gagged as soon as I saw the name. _"5-7-9"_

One of those stores that are literally on the verge of driving me insane with their girly crap.

I moaned as she pushed into the store. "Can't we go somewhere more normal? Like Wal-Mart?"

She shook her head. "Nope! This store is the best, ve~!" _Maybe in your opinion…_

I sighed as she began dragging me around again, pulling stuff off of hangers.

I was confused for a few moments when she grabbed two or three groups of the same thing, and then I realized she didn't know my sizes.

"Um, if you need my clothing sizes, I could tell you…" I mumbled, not sure I wanted to actually tell her.

She paused in mid-step, then turned to face me with a cheerful smile. "That would be helpful," she mused happily.

"Size zero pants—" she immediately started gaping at me, and I blushed, completely ignoring the fact that I didn't finish my sentence.

"Size zero is the smallest you fit into, right?"

I shook my head. "No, it's the size I wear if I want to be _comfortable_. Ones are kind of okay, but they feel a little loose…" I trailed off as she stared at me in absolute shock.

I ground my teeth, burning bright red. "Size zeros, okay? I wear a small adult or a large child when it comes to shirts. And, um, do you need anything else or is that okay?"

She pressed her finger against her lips, looking like she was thinking hard. "Well, shoe size would be helpful but that's another store."

"I wear a seven."

"Maybe bras and underwear," she noticed the blush spreading across my face, "_but _you could probably do that with your aunt."

I shook my head. "That's even worse."

She pursed her lips. "I suppose we could make a trip to Victoria's Secret then—"

"No! How about we buy from Wal-Mart. Okay?"

She nodded, a smile spreading back across her lips. "Okay!"

She back-tracked, and I soon discovered she had grabbed size-two jeans as the smallest size. I shook my head, utterly shocked. Was it really that surprising that I was so skinny? I mean, I don't eat bloody much!

She became more focused as she searched through clothes, completely letting go of my arm. Finally, after looking at a certain dress that I knew would look horrible on me, she sighed. "You'll have to move up two pants sizes."

I pouted and crossed my arms. "Why? I'm just fine as I bloody am!"

She smiled at me. "While it is most definitely an amazing thing that you fit size zero jeans, you need some sort of presence in the world. While skinny girls are definitely praised for their good eating health (or, _bad _eating health), they aren't nearly as pleasing to hug, ve~! Besides, didn't you say you want a boyfriend?"

I blushed. "I mean, I guess so, but—"

"Then you need some meat on your bones, ve~"

I sighed in defeat as she began picking size two pants off the racks. "If you say so…"

She handed me two pairs of jeans, a dress, and three shirts, and then shoved me into a dressing room stall. I stripped down into just my underwear and bra and looked at my reflection.

Usually, I was just fine with my appearance. But, hearing her words, I realized I was kind of _too _skinny. I numbly ran my fingers over my rib cage, which definitely showed. My hand rested on my stomach, and I took in a deep breath.

"Maybe I could eat a little more food…" I murmured to myself as I finally turned to look at the clothes.

I wrinkled my nose as I looked at them. All of them looked too big for me. One was a purple and black plaid shirt on a white background, with loads of ruffles. I undid the buttons and then slid it on, feeling embarrassment as it hung lifelessly off of me. I buttoned it up and self-consciously messed with it as I noticed it hung so limp that it revealed my bra in the front. I tugged it up so it rested awkwardly on my shoulders, and then turned my attention to pulling on a pair of skinny jeans.

While those stayed on me, I couldn't help but feel depressed by the fact that they _didn't _feel like skinny jeans. I sighed as I adjusted the shirt again, then stepped out of the stall to show Feliciana.

She grinned at me with a cheery smile as she saw me, then frowned slightly as she saw how I kept tugging at the pants to keep them from slipping off. She frowned in thought, then declared, "You should eat fatty foods for the next few days. And four meals a day. And then _maybe _you'll fit."

I frowned in annoyance. "Are we done? Or do I have to try on the others?"

She shook her head. "No, change back into your other clothes and we'll go to the shoe store next."

I nodded and slid back into the stall, a bright blush burning my cheeks.

[-]

The shoe store was less uncomfortable. I was used to buying Vans and such from the store, but I hadn't even glanced at the female aisles.

I almost gagged as I saw all of the heels. "You aren't going to make me wear heels, are you?"

She shook her head. "No. But you will buy a pair that match you're clothes, so you can get used to wearing them."

I moaned and held my face in my hands. "Oh the horror!"

She giggled, then pulled down two boxes. I noticed that they were the same brand and pair of shoes, only two varying colors. They were both platforms, and at the toe of the shoe was a button. One pair was black, the bottoms white with corresponding button, while the other pair was creamy tan and white striped, again with a white button.

I frowned as she held them out to me. "These are both size eight, so you have some room to grow. Try them on."

I slid my slip-on shoes and slid my ankle-socked feet into the black pair. I wiggled my toes around, then took a few steps. I could walk without them falling off, but didn't have much restriction.

I smiled slightly at her as I slipped them off. "They fit."

She grinned at me in that ever-cheery way of her's. "Good~!"

We bought both pairs of shoes and were about to leave the mall when, as an afterthought, she tugged me in the direction of the food court.

I placed my hand on my stomach, remembering that I needed to fatten up.

I sighed. _No more small fries, I guess…_

She bought me two quarter-pounders (which were Al's favorite) and forced me to eat it in front of her. After I finished the last bite, I moaned and held my stomach. "Too much…" I groaned, putting my head on the table.

"From now on, that's what you eat for dinner. I also bought a large container of fries. You _have _eat them before you go to sleep, okay?"

I sighed and nodded.

She smiled blissfully and grabbed my arm, pulling me into a standing position. "All we have to do is go to Wal-Mart, and then you can go home, ve~!"

I frowned as she tugged me towards the car. Feliciana was less merciful than you would think at first glance.

[-]

Since the trip to Wal-Mart was even more torturous than I first thought, I'm not going to dare describe it.

However, after one simple trip, I now owned a blue-and-white striped bra with matching lacy blue boy shorts underwear (both one size bigger than I normally wear), a white thong ("Prevents panty-lines, ve~"), two pairs of black pantyhose, white tights, a silver (and expensive looking) purse, a white carry-around bag with pink hearts all over it, and, for good measure, a super-size bag of chocolate. (For snacking on between meals, she told me.)

I was near-tears when she dragged me to the check-out counter, the cashier staring at us in confusion. However, the elderly lady gave a knowing nod as she laid eyes on the items.

She smiled sweetly at me as she gave me the bags. "It's okay, darling. Nobody's judging you."

I wanted to claw her eyes out.

Feliciana added the bags to the pile in the backseat, then smiled sweetly at me. "That old lady was _niiiice_~"

I scowled as I started the car. "Just put your bloody seat belt on."

She gladly obliged.

[-]

After dropping her off at her house (I wouldn't dare let her get back to my house and describe the details of the trip to my cousins and aunt), I drove back to my house, the late time now taking it's toll on the sky.

I glanced up at the sky as I locked the doors of the car, my arms weighted down by at least five shopping bags, noticing that it wasn't _too _late. The stars weren't even out yet.

I tried desperately to sneak into the house unnoticed.

However, that is impossible to do when you live with an extremely observant cousin, his overly obnoxious brother, and their always-worrying-over-me mother.

Immediately Matthew looked at the bags curiously. Alfred pawed at my arms, trying to snag a peek of what was in there. Finally Aunt Tori came to my rescue and took three of the bags into her arms, swatting away at Alfred while trying to sneak a look into the bags herself.

I quickly kicked her out of my room as soon as we set the bags down.

However, she wasn't so easy to get rid of. As I stuffed the bags under a pile of clothes in my closet, she leaned against the door pane. "Are you going to wear any of it tomorrow to school?"

I snorted and slammed the closet door shut with my foot. "Hell no. I don't fit any of it."

She raised a questioning eyebrow.

I sighed and laid down on my bed up side down, my head lolling to the floor. "She said I was _too _skinny, and that I have to fatten up. So she bought all of the clothes a few sizes bigger."

She nodded, as if she completely agreed with Feliciana. "You'll never fatten up with your diet, though."

I shrugged and moved back into a normal sitting position. "She bought me loads of chocolate and ordered me to eat fatty foods four times a day."

Aunt Tori grinned at me. "I suppose we'll have chocolate pancakes for breakfast tomorrow, then!" she sang happily, leaving the room before I could throw a pillow at her.

[-]

**Oh lord. Almost twenty-five hundred words long. *face desk* I spoil you guys too much! All my stories are getting this way! LOL**

**Just wondering, but which do you guys prefer? Stories with A/Ns, or stories without? Because I might make this upcoming story I'm about to write into a story without A/Ns, but I don't know…**

**Review! Hope you all enjoyed! ^3^**


	4. Chapter 4

**Omnomnomnomnom! Cookies are good~**

**Sum.: Arthuretta Kirkland has always been a little bit of a rebel. And Francis Bonnefoy has always been the clear image of what she loathed. But after a rumor goes around that Francis is more bad than he appears, Arthuretta's eyes are opened to the fact that maybe, just maybe, Francis might not be such a goody-two-shoes after all.**

**Genre: Romance**

**Warnings: Rated T, cruel teenage girls, light use of the "French Cure," and some gen!flipping~**

**Read, mah minions! Enjoy~**

**[-]**

**Chapter 4**

**[-]**

I moaned sleepily as the smells of melting chocolate wafted up to my bedroom.

_So she meant it when she said she'd make chocolate pancakes. I bet Matthew's having an orgasm just watching her cook them._

I smiled slightly at the thought, then opened my eyes and yawned loudly, stretching as high as my hands could go.

I looked at the bag of chocolate and moaned. Looking at it now, I can understand why I almost threw up last night.

Warning of advice, attempting to eat an entire bag of chocolate so you don't have to deal with it does, in fact, result in an upset stomach.

And the sad part was, I hadn't even made a dent in it.

_Maybe I just don't have a tolerance for sweets…_

I padded barefoot to my closet and pawed through the clothes. I _could _wear more usual outfit. Or I could be at least a little better looking to eye and wear a yellow tank-top and jean shorts.

I slid the shorts on under my night shirt (which I quickly took off after I got the shorts on), and then held my hands against my sides and looked at my reflection in the full-size mirror that hung on the inside of my closet door.

My fingers were just a few millimeters too long, making the shorts against school policy. I smiled happily at the thought of the principal flipping out when he saw my outfit.

I pulled on the tank top and frowned as I noticed that it was too long to be mine. _Must be Aunt Tori's, _I mused silently as I took a hair tie and binded a small knot in the lower back of the shirt, making it more me-sized.

I ran my fingers through my hair, not really caring if it looked brushed or not, then I grabbed the new bag (now full of my normal school books) and purse (containing all thirty dollars I have left from the shopping trip, a few…_female necessities_, a few mechanical pencils, and a pack of gum), and ran downstairs.

I immediately claimed my seat and dropped my stuff onto the floor behind my chair and Aunt Tori cheerfully placed a stack of four large, syrup smothered pancakes. As if she was taunting me, she placed a strawberry on top of the pile and sprinkled confectioner's sugar all over the entire thing.

Matthew looked completely dejected as he compared his meager three pancakes. He pouted angrily. "Why does Arthuretta get more pancakes then me, eh? She doesn't even eat them—"

He shut up as soon as he saw that I had already finished off the first one.

How come I've never eaten pancakes before? They are _good_! I realized the fact that I rarely ate anything sweet was the reason I devoured them so quickly.

I finished the last pancake, Matthew flabbergasted into silence and Alfred just now coming down the stairs.

I popped the strawberry into my mouth after I yanked the greens off, and Alfred stared at me in shock.

"How many pancakes did she just eat?" Al asked.

"Four," Aunt Tori happily supplied as she laid two more on my plate and drizzled more syrup on the top, this time refraining from adding fruit and/or fluffy sugar.

I ate these slightly slower, and with less eagerness, as Matthew shook his head in shock and a plate of pancakes was placed in front of Alfred.

The two ate their pancakes silently as they watched me eat mine, as if I was some show on the tube.

I wiped my mouth with the supplied napkin and, as an afterthought, placed my plate and silverware into the sink.

Aunt Tori watched on with a secret smile as she began scrubbing at the skillet she used to cook the pancakes.

Alfred shook his head as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Why exactly is Arty suddenly eating like a pig? And dressing like she cares?"

I bared my teeth at him. "Shut up, Al!"

Matthew mumbled, "At least not all of her has changed."

Aunt Tori wiped her hands on her apron and smiled sweetly at the two. "Your cousin has decided to eat a little more so her ribs don't show anymore."

Al, being the idiotic git he is, rubbed at my rib cage. I slapped his hand away, but that didn't stop him from pursing his lips in thought. "Arty is really boney."

I glared at him and crossed my arms. "At least I'm not fat like _you_."

He looked like a crestfallen puppy. "I'm not fat…!"

I sneered at him, just as Aunt Tori snuck a look at his watch. "It's time for school, kiddos!" She ushered us out of the kitchen.

Again, she kissed the tops of their heads, receiving the same reactions was always. She eyed me warily. So I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her. "Thank you for your advice, Aunt Tori."

She smiled and kissed my cheek, then made a shooing motion with her hands. "Don't want to be late!" she called just as all of us piled into Matthew's car.

She waved, and this time I smiled slightly at her.

[-]

I stood in front of my empty locker, wondering if I was willing to do a little school work. I sighed and placed the unnecessary books in my locker, leaving me with just a folder filled with sheet music and a binder marked "Choir."

I shut my locker door and made my way to class, not even bothering to hide in the bathroom for as long as possible.

I blushed as I realized I was first to get into the classroom, other than the teacher.

She glanced up at me and did a double-take. "O-Oh, Arthuretta, what a surprise to see you here so early…" she gasped. I frowned slightly but nodded my head and put my bag down in my usual corner.

One of the biggest rules at this school is _no bags_. However, since the choir classroom was outside the main building of the school, there was an exception. There was one wall completely dedicated to leaving our schoolbags at. Most of the time, the other girls managed time to go to their locker. But there were those few lazy ones (like me) who ate breakfast in the cafeteria (not like me) and didn't _have _time to make a trip to their lockers.

I pulled out my folder and binder and grabbed a pencil from my purse, then sat down at my assigned spot on the risers.

The first few classes of the day flew by without me really noticing, since I wasn't boredly ignoring the teachers. Soon it was lunch time and I frowned as I put my stuff back in my locker. I pondered what I was to do for lunch as I walked towards the courtyard and nearly fell face-first onto the floor when someone hug-attacked me from behind.

"You're dressing like a girl today, ve~!" Feliciana squealed. I blushed and pried her fingers off of me.

"Yes," I said hesitantly as she walked with me to the courtyard. She supplied a bag from McDonald's and grinned.

"I brought you lunch, ve!"

"How'd you find time for it?" I asked as I discovered the food was still warm.

She smiled. "Alfred has first lunch and I asked him to pick you up two more burgers."

I frowned. The food was probably poisoned, then.

As we settled at a sunny table under the lone tree that sat in the middle, she happily asked, "So what did you eat for breakfast, ve~?"

I pursed my lips to hold back from smiling in pride. "Six chocolates pancakes, suffocated in syrup."

I frowned as I realized my stomach was still full from that. "I might not be able to eat these—" I began to tell Feliciana. However, she gave me a look that didn't sit well with her usually smiling face.

"Eat it," she demanded. My eyes widened, but I nodded.

She smiled again happily and began eating the first container of pasta.

Ludwig again joined us to eat, again listening silently as Feliciana chattered, although I noticed he was looking at me questioningly as I began eating my food.

I held back from blushing. _You're used to these stares by now, remember? _I told myself.

"What the fuck happened to Arthuretta?" a loud feminine voice declared. I held back from hissing as I recognized it as Gillian.

I frowned and swallowed. "Whatever do you mean, twit?" I turned to her, a scowl on my face.

She grinned smugly at me. "You're eating. And I was so sure you were anorexic."

I blushed and glared at her.

Antonia happily sang, "That means you owe Francis twenty dollars~!"

Gillian wrinkled her nose. "If he ever gets out, that is," she mumbled.

Ludwig rolled his eyes. "You still haven't thanked me, East."

She grinned at him. "Why should I thank you when it's kind of your obligation?"

He narrowed his eyes at her but turned back to eating.

I turned to Feliciana. "What happened?" I asked when Gillian and Antonia left to go bother someone else.

Feliciana's lip trembled. "Gillian, Antonia, and Francis all got arrested for underage drinking last night. Ludwig bailed his sister out around two in the morning, and Fratello and I got Antonia out at about six today. No one is willing to pay the money for big brother Francis, though."

I blinked. "Why can't Gillian and Antonia just get one of his bloody fangirls to cough up the money?"

She pouted. "None of them are allowed to know."

I pursed my lips and stared at a wall in thought. "I suppose I could pay it, then."

She giggled behind her hand. "Is Francis the boy you meant when you said that you wanted a boyfriend?"

I burned bright red and glared at her. "If you want me to bail him out, you'll shut up now."

She shut her mouth and silently ate her pasta, a smile tugging at her lips.

[-]

Al and Matthew did not react nicely when I told them after school that I was going to walk home.

"What are you doing, eh?" Matthew asked, worry furrowing his brow.

I rolled my eyes. "I have to meet up with a…_friend_." My lunch churned in my stomach as I said the word. Francis was most certainly _not _a friend.

Al snickered. "Don't have too much fun, now!"

I clenched my fists, holding back from punching him. "Shut up, you bloody wanker!:

He rolled his eyes but still grinned.

"Do you want us to take your bag home?" Matthew asked. I nodded and handed him the bag, but kept my purse in my hand.

"Um, Matthew, tell Aunt Tori I'll call her in about half an hour, okay?"

Matthew looked at me closely, but finally sighed and nodded. "Okay. Be safe, eh."

I nodded and waited until they were out of sight before hailing down a cab.

"To the nearest bank, please," I told the driver.

[-]

After a quick detour to the bank (where I dipped into the account my mum set up for me when she first sent me to live with my cousins), I asked the driver to drive me to the police station. He smirked at me through the rearview mirror. "Boyfriend in jail or something?"

I growled at him, baring my teeth. "I'm not paying you to bloody talk to me, git."

He rolled his eyes but focused back on the road.

As soon as he dropped me off, I paid him the thirty dollars I had in my purse, leaving him with a five dollar tip. Just because he wouldn't expect me to leave him a tip at all.

I walked inside and stepped right up to the secretary. "I'm here with bail for a Mr. Francis Bonnefoy."

"Name?" she asked boredly, writing something on a log.

"Arthuretta Kirkland," I stated curtly as I snuck a peek at the page. Sure enough, Feliciana and Ludwig's names were there.

"Age?"

"16"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, you're not old enough—"

"I'm emancipated."

She raised an eyebrow and held her hand out for the papers for it. I ground my teeth but supplied them, thankful I always carried them with me. What is it with people and their distrust for kids who are emancipated?

After staring hard at them, she returned them to me.

"Driver's license, please."

I slid it out of my back pocket and handed it to her. She glanced at the image, then handed it back to me. "I'll need a signature and a phone number to contact you with in case he doesn't show up for trial."

I nodded, long since used to the routine. (Al accumulates quite a bit of tickets.) I signed my name and then quickly scrawled down the digits. She read it then nodded in approval and picked up a phone. "Officer Blackstock, a Ms. Kirkland is here to pick up the underage drinker."

She set it back down and gestured to the chairs in the waiting room. "Pick a seat, any seat," she dryly joked.

I rolled my eyes but sat down on the one closest to the door.

Just as I was about to pull out my iPod, I heard my name being called. I looked up to see a skinny officer, small for a man, looking me over with a hard gaze. I stood up and followed him as he returned through a door that led further back through the station.

"You look a little young to be old enough to bail someone," he noted in a gruff voice.

"I'm emancipated," I replied blandly.

He nodded, as if it made sense. We stopped in front of a steel door with a plastic, probably bullet-proof window.

He pulled a set of keys and quickly unlocked the door. "Someone's here to bail you out, boy."

Francis immediately looked up at me, a look of pure shock on his face. "Arthuretta?" he asked as the officer began unlocking his handcuffs.

I scowled at him. "You owe me, Francis."

He smiled sweetly at me. "Of course I do, _ma cheri_."

I rolled my eyes as the officer led us back to the front doors.

"And 'ow exactly did you find out zat I was 'ere?" he questioned, suspicion raising the French tones in his voice.

I realized that he probably told Gillian and Antonia not to tell me where he was. Damn git.

I glanced at him warily. "Why would it matter?"

He shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. "My good-guy reputation would be ruined if the entire school found out where I was."

The officer snorted. "You've been here plenty of times. If it hasn't already been ruined, then my name is Roger."

A smirk tugged at Francis' lips. "Of course, Jerri."

The officer rolled his eyes and opened the front door for us. "Have a good day, ma'am," he said to me with a nod of his head.

I nodded back, then glared at Francis and punched him in the shoulder. "What would you have done if I hadn't bailed you out? That's bloody idiotic of you to just go around, telling Gillian and Antonia to not tell anyone where you were!"

He shrugged sadly. "But I would've stayed there until the trial date, _non_?" He then looked at me curious. "How _did _you find out?"

I glared at the ground as we began walking in the direction of our neighborhood. "Feliciana told me, after Gillian said something about you owing her ten dollars after you 'get out.'" I then glared at him. "What's this about you betting with her on whether or not I'm anorexic?"

He smiled sheepishly. "_Ma ami _Gillian was hard-set, saying you were starving yourself on purpose. I simply told her that I knew you were not. But then she told me to bet on it, so I did."

I pursed my lips, but said no more.

After a few moments of silence, he spoke up.

"So 'ow were you allowed to bail me?"

I shrugged. "I'm emancipated, and my mum set up an account for me so I had enough money to live off of until high school ended."

He pressed his lips into a line. "Why'd you do it?"

"What? Bail you out?" He nodded. I shrugged and looked up at the sky. "It'd make me feel guilty if I knew that I had the money but didn't bail you out."

A moment later, he pressed his lips against my cheek.

I immediately flinched away from him and blushed, rubbing at my cheek. "What the bloody fuck was _that _for?"

He grinned at me. "_Merci, ma cheri_. _Je t'aime_," he sang happily.

I rolled my eyes and rubbed at my cheek. If only I knew French…

[-]

**Awwwwwww~ I loved this chapter! ^^ Now, a quicky translation:**

**Je t'aime = I love you**

**Too bad she doesn't know he said that LOLZ**

**P.S. All of the clothes and shoes and accessories I mention in stories? Most to all of it is always things I have. The shirt? I own that. The shoes? Mine~ The bag and purse? Also mine! (Although my bag has yellow hearts, but I know that Wal-Mart has it in pink.)**

**Review! Hope y'all enjoyed! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Some Okie slang for you! Most people say the word "comfortable" as, well, comfort-uh-bull. However, us Okies say "Come-tur-ble." Hee-hee!**

**Sum.: Arthuretta Kirkland has always been a little bit of a rebel. And Francis Bonnefoy has always been the clear image of what she loathed. But after a rumor goes around that Francis is more bad than he appears, Arthuretta's eyes are opened to the fact that maybe, just maybe, Francis might not be such a goody-two-shoes after all.**

**Genre: Romance**

**Warnings: Rated T, stomach rubbing, and some gen!flipping~**

**Read, my chickies! Enjoy!**

**[-]**

**Chapter 5**

**[-]**

Francis and I never spoke of the fact that I had bailed him out. His fangirls thought that he had been sick, and he told Gillian and Antonia that someone found the money for him. When questioned who, he simply shrugged and said "I have no idea."

As I finished my second burger at lunch, Feliciana looked at me like she was thinking hard about something.

I raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

Without warning she rubbed at my stomach. I flinched, but was used to people messing with my stomach by now. (Al was always commenting on it, saying in, what he assumed was, a profound tone, "Yes, yes, it is indeed quite larger.")

She pulled her hand away and clapped cheerfully. "I think you're big enough to fit into your clothes, ve~!"

I burned bright red and hushed her. I glanced around the courtyard and saw that it was just us.

I turned back to her. "You mean I can wear my new clothes on Monday?"

She nodded excitedly.

I hmmed but said nothing more.

Just then, the bell rang. She threw an embrace around me, and I lightly hugged back. "See you after last bell, Arthuretta!"

I nodded and mumbled, "See you." She ran of to her locker, and I walked in a slow pace to mine.

For the rest of the day, I was spacey and out of it. I practically floated through all of my classes. _I can finally be _pretty. _I can finally be worth Francis' affection_. Just thinking the thought was enough to make me blush, and I hid my face behind my textbook.

When final bell rang, Feliciana met me at the classroom door and explained that her brother was driving her home, and was getting mad that she kept getting to the car late. So we exchanged hugs and goodbyes, and I watched as she ran off.

I pursed my lips as I stared after her. I'd probably never have that happy stride, that carefree attitude, that innocent look. But at least I'd be costumed for the part.

I sighed and made my way to my locker. Just as I opened it, two thin arms snaked around my waist. I jumped and attempted to get out of the familiar grip. "Francis, you prat, let go of me!"

He completely ignored my protests as he replied. "You're gaining weight, _ma cheri_."

I growled as I tried to pry his fingers off of me. "And how do you know that?"

He smiled affectionately at me. "I've noticed zat you've started eating lunch again."

I blushed and crossed my arms over my chest, giving up on getting away. "What of it?"

"And I would know zat you were gaining weight simply by 'olding you."

"Don't say things like that, you git!" I mumbled as my blush worsened.

He hummed in thought. "You used to be so _petit _I felt tempted to swaddle you like _la petit enfant_."

I glared at my locker, my blush finally subsiding. "You're completely dotty."

"_Si votre veut dire je suis en train de perdre il, je suis absolument fou_," he whispered as he released his hold on me.

I turned around and glared at him, confusion written all over my face. "What did you just say?"

A smirk tugged at his lips. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

I bared my teeth at him but said nothing more as I tugged my bag out of my locker and began loading my books into it. After tucking my purse into it and slinging it over my shoulder, I shut my locker.

I turned to him expectantly. "Why are you still here?"

He pursed his lips. "_Oui_, why am I?" he murmured to himself. I assumed he meant for me to not hear it, so I said nothing on the matter. "I'm not allowed to walk you home?" he asked innocently.

I narrowed my eyes. "And what's with the sudden interest?"

He shrugged and looped an arm around my shoulder. "I just thought zat if I was nicer to you, maybe you'd—"

I wrinkled my nose and held up my hand for him to stop. "You don't have to be nice to me just because I bailed you out, okay? Just…if you ever get put in jail again, remember that I'll help you."

He sighed, then smiled sadly at me. "You're so smart, Arthuretta. You knew exactly what I was going to say."

I rolled my eyes and took his hand off of my shoulder. "I have to tell my cousins that I'm walking home."

A glint flickered in his eyes, and he gestured towards me. "Then do what you must, _ma cheri_."

I scowled at the endearment but held my tongue. I pulled my cell phone out of my bag and called Matthew's phone. He answered on the second ring.

"Arthuretta? Where are you, eh?"

"Matthew, I'm going to walk home today."

"Don't tell me you're bailing someone out of jail again."

I puffed my cheeks in anger. "Who told you about that?"

"Well, Francis did."

I had completely forgotten the two knew each other. "Urg. Stupid git. Anyway, it's nothing like that. I just want to keep my newly fat weight in check is all, you know?"

"Arthuretta, you're _not _fat, eh."

"You're not my mother, Matthew, nor will you ever be. So, please stop worrying about me, okay?"

I heard him sigh in defeat. "Okay. Do you want to at least drop your bag off with me?"

I shook my head, then remembered he couldn't see me. "No, that's fine. Tell Aunt Tori that I'll be home soon, okay?"

"Okay. Bye, Arthuretta."

"Bye, Matthew. See you later."

He hung up the phone, and I followed suit.

I turned to Francis. "So, are you going to walk me home or what?"

He simply smiled at me, affection easily showing in his eyes.

[-]

"So, explain your situation to me."

My step faltered, and I turned to look at him in curiosity. "What do you mean?"

"You're emancipated and living with your cousins and their mother, and you 'ave an account full of money," he stated simply.

I hmmed, then began. "My father owns a large company. Of what it is about, I have never been told. He also had ties with the royal family. He loved me immensely, because I was his only daughter. However, my mother didn't like me quite so much. She was furious that she didn't have another son to run the company. She hoped that I'd bring in tons of suitors. Naturally, _that _didn't happen.

"So she assumed that putting me through three years of boarding school would straighten me out. Teach me some manners, maybe. But, of course, that plan backfired. I was more sour than ever. Finally, when my father died when I started my first year of high school, she was fed up. She assumed the role of president of the company, and had me emancipated when I turned sixteen. She contacted her late brother's wife—Aunt Tori—and asked her to house me. Aunt Tori, being the generous and kind-hearted woman she is, gladly took me in without question. My mother set up a fund to cover my expensives, and she puts ten-thousand dollars into it every New Year's Day.

"Of course, that means she has to visit me around that time. So she drags my three of my brothers, leaving the oldest to run the company in her absence, and we all have a sort of faux happy family reunion. She takes me out to dinner, looks at my grades, interviews Aunt Tori, all that, and then makes her decision on whether or not she wants me as a daughter. If she doesn't, she puts ten-thousand dollars in the bank and leaves without a word. I have no idea what would happen if she approved of me."

Francis looked at me wryly. "Is that why you act so sour?"

I pouted and crossed my arms across my chest. "No. It just became habit. I used to reserve my attitude just for my mother, but I got so used to using it that I ended up acting like that all the time." I rubbed at my eye, willing the burning to go away as I spoke the next sentence. "The last words I said to my father were 'I hate you for marrying that woman.'"

Francis gave me a sad smile. "I say it's a good thing this entire thing 'appened."

I looked at him, an accusing look written all over my face. "Hey!"

He smiled sweetly at me. "If you're mother 'adn't 'ated you so, I wouldn't 'ave ever met you."

I stopped walking for a moment and rubbed at my jaw. "God. That was so sweet I think I got a cavity."

He laughed, and I commanded myself to not fall in love with the sound.

_Too late_… a voice whispered in my head.

[-]

He smiled cheerfully at me as I began digging around in my bag for the house key.

"I suppose zis is goodbye," he said, making himself sound dramatically depressed.

I rolled my eyes as I pulled the key out. "Don't be so melodramatic, Francis. It's only two days."

"Zat is two days without you, _ma amour_." He snuck a kiss from me, and I glared at him as I pushed him away.

"No! Bad Francis! Scat!" I waved my hands at him, telling him to shoo.

He rolled his eyes. "_Adieu_, Arthuretta."

I snorted. "Bye," I unlocked the door and slid inside.

And immediately watched him walk away through the living room window.

"Someone's in _love_~" the most obnoxious voice I've ever heard in my entire life sang.

I turned around and glared at Alfred. "I'm not in love, you prat."

Alfred nodded. "Uh-huh."

I hissed. "You know full well that I hate Francis."

Alfred smiled innocently at me. "Of _course_, Arty!"

I held back from beating him to a pulp.

He laughed and left the room. Matthew looked at me in bewilderment. "How can you stand him, eh?"

"Who, Alfred?" He nodded. I shrugged. "I'm British. I may lash out with words, but I'd never be able to hurt him."

He frowned. "That doesn't make sense. Why would the British be stereotyped as non-aggressive?"

I shrugged. "It might just be my upbringing."

He shrugged in response.

Well _he's _very talkative today.

(Not.)

[-]

I yawned as I was woken up by someone jumping up and down on my bed.

"Arrrrrtttttyyyyy, you have to help me study for a test because no one else is going to and—"

"You're such a swot! It's Saturday, go do something _human_."

He paused in mid-jump and fell face-first onto the bed, his chin colliding with my knee. I hissed in pain and pulled my hurt appendage to my chest.

"What's a swot?"

I glared at him. "What? Since when do you care about British slang?"

He shrugged and rubbed absentmindedly at his chin, as if it didn't hurt. "So, what does it mean?"

I looked at him like he was crazy. "A nerd. Someone who studies excessively when they can be doing more entertaining activities."

He nodded, as if it made sense. "I don't have anything better to do."

I groaned and tried to tug the comforter over my head, but he had his huge arse sitting right in the middle of it.

"Go away, Al. I'm not in the mood to be woken up at—" I glanced at my clock. "—nine in the morning."

He rolled his eyes and pouted. "Please?"

I shook my head. "Bugger off."

"_Plllleeeeeaaassseeee_? I'll stop calling you 'Arty.'"

I sat back up and looked at him warily. "Until when?"

He spoke like he already knew the answer. "Until you get a boyfriend."

I glared at him. "And how long do you bloody think that's going to be?"

He grinned at me. "Soon?"

I rolled my eyes and swung my legs over the edge of my bed. "Fine." He whooped and grabbed my arm, dragging me downstairs to the dining room, where Aunt Tori was cooking breakfast. Textbooks covered every inch of the table.

I looked at Alfred in shock. "What exactly do you want me to help you with?"

He shrugged. "What are you best at?"

I chewed on my lip in thought. "Well, I'd be no bloody help if it's Froggie, so that's nixed. I'm good at geoggers, as long as it isn't anywhere with a bunch of teeny islands and micro-nations. Blodge makes me ill. And maths hurts my head."

He looked at me in utter confusion, then turned to his mum. Who was more used to British slang. (Because her husband was, after all, my mother's brother.)

"She's bad at French, good at geography as long as it has to do with Europe, Asia, and/or North America, biology makes her feel sick, and math is confusing."

Alfred oh-ed, then turned to me in disappointment. "You're no help, then."

I glared at him and sat down in my usual seat, pushing away books and papers to make room for food.

Right then, Aunt Tori placed scrambled eggs and fries in front of me.

I looked up at her in shock. "Chips? For breakfast?"

She shrugged and took a few off my plate. "Fine, if you don't want them so much—"

"No, I never said I didn't want them." She smiled and ruffled my already messy hair.

"Good. Just because you don't have to over-eat anymore doesn't mean you're going back to starving yourself."

I glared at my place as I spooned a forkful of eggs into my mouth. "I wasn't starving myself. I just didn't feel like eating…"

[-]

**Hahahaha Her British school-girl side is starting to show up. XD (This means more brit slang *whoops*)**

**Hope you enjoyed~! Review~!**


	6. AN

Oh dear lord. Where do I start.

As you all may know, I've recently just up and disappeared. I stop reading fanfictions, stopped responding to reviews, and stopped updating my stories. This doesn't mean I stopped wanting to write or didn't want to respond, there was just too much going on at the beginning for me to find time and by the time I _did _have some, I hadn't been motivated enough to write, or I had just simply never thought of it.

However, my friend IRL and I collab'd a Left 4 Dead story on Facebook, and we discussed where else to post it. Finally I said "we could put it on my " To which she replied "You have one?" So thus, I showed my account to her and she read some of my stories. One in particular she was very fond of and was constantly asking me to update it.

Unfortunately, taking a look at my account, I realized there were many stories I didn't want to continue or stories that I just couldn't continue right now. I will save all of my stories to my computer, of course, but only the ones I want to be fully dedicated to will be uploaded to my new account. If you have me author alerted, I suggest you go and add my other account instead as this one will soon be either closed or left to wither. If you have a story (or stories) on alert, I suggest author alerting my other account and simply removing it once you've story alerted the new one.

My newest account is ka583982 (/u/2807266) and I promise I will be more dedicated to my writing and respond better to reviews and PMs. If you have anything you wish to ask, PM me on there or email me at . Or, if that leads to a week without reply, you can message me on Facebook; a link to it can be found on my new Fanfiction profile.

Love you all and hope you will continue to stick with me!

-Karb/CWT


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